


Exit, Pursued by a Star

by lucelafonde



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Actors, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-18 07:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12383607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucelafonde/pseuds/lucelafonde
Summary: When Yuri finally manages to land his first big acting gig in a play withtheVictor Nikiforov, he promptly blows it and retires before his career ever kicks off. At least, that's the plan. A certain Russian superstar seems to have other ideas.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I spell it "Yuri" with one "u" because that's the name of the show. The other Yuri will either be Russian Yuri or Yurio.

The headlines read “Yuri Katsuki, Opening Night’s Biggest Failure.” They said “Yuri Katsuki, the Actor That Never Was.” “Yuri Katsuki, the Biggest Flop of the Year.”

They kept going, but Yuri couldn’t look at any more. The few he’d seen had been enough. At least they could all agree on something: his debut in a big play had been a massive failure. A hand shot up to cover his mouth. _Don’t… don’t throw up. Don’t throw up._

It had been humiliating. There was no other word for it. For years, Yuri had starred in low budget no-name community plays, even going so far as to take acting lessons overseas while he went to college. His coach had said he had talent, that he could move on to the next level and take on bigger roles now, and by some miracle he’d managed to get a minor part in the hottest play of the year: Victor Nikiforov’s newest hit. And he’d blown it.

Victor Nikiforov was… There were no words for it. He was everybody’s darling, the world’s biggest heartthrob, a Russian actor who somehow managed to go international and gather a fan club that spanned all around the world. He was known for heavily influencing all his roles, rewriting most of them himself to fit his character, and he was also Yuri’s idol. Ever since he’d seen him on TV as a child, when Victor was still a rising star in a TV show and a few smaller movies, Yuri had looked up to him. And he’d managed to land a role in one of his plays.

And he’d blown it all to hell.

He was sitting in a bathroom stall in the restaurant they’d rented for their review party, trying not to hyperventilate. Everyone was going crazy over Victor’s performance, like always, singing his praises, but the other thing that had apparently made a lasting impression on reviewers was Yuri’s debut in a big production. And how he’d ruined it.

Great. That was just… great. He’d finally made it onto the same stage as Victor, but instead of meeting him as an equal, the man would now remember him only as the guy that ruined his big night. If he’d even bother remembering his name after all that; he certainly wouldn’t be staying on for any further performances. At least his role hadn’t been too important. He didn’t even have any dialogue with Victor, so they’d never actually interacted on or off stage. But he’d stood there in the same spots Victor had. He’d heard his voice across the room. He’d watched him come and go in practice. He’d seen the audience during opening night, staring at Victor with the same kind of starstruck expression he always had when he watched the man’s performances.

It had been…

Yuri shook himself. _Don’t think about it. You had your chance. Your dream came true. Let it go._

“Hey, asshole!”

The door to the stall he was in got kicked open, and the Russian Yuri, a teenage star in the acting world who happened to go to the same acting school as Victor, glowered at him with murder in his eyes.

“If you’re just gonna cry here like a baby, why don’t you go home, piggy? I don’t need you ruining my name.” He snarled. “We don’t need two Yuris in this play. Especially not if one of them’s a _loser._ ”

Yuri didn’t even remember what he did after that. He swallowed his shock and rushed past the man out of the bathroom and back into the party.

After that, he gave up.

 

±

 

Half a year later, Yuri was back home in Japan. He’d finished with college, and he hadn’t touched a single acting job since that humiliation with Victor’s play. Right now, he didn’t know what to do. He’d wanted to be an actor ever since he’d seen Victor in a serial about an ice skating prodigy who had to fight his way through the ruthless world of professional figure skating. He’d been enthralled by the young Russian actor and the way he expressed his emotions with his body. How he could draw people in even at such a young age. The charisma, the presence…

All the things Yuri would never have. For a brief moment, though, he’d been allowed to dream. For a brief moment, Victor had been there…

He shook his head. No. He’d promised himself not to think about it again. That chapter of his life was over. It was time to focus on something else.

“I’m home.”

Yuri listlessly greeted his family, apologised to the shrine of his dead dog, and then went to the only place he liked to be when he was in turmoil: the small drama school he’d spent most of his youth in. It wasn’t much, just some spaces that held a few classes a week, but he liked it there because the rooms were homey and covered in mirrors and he could watch all his emotions play out like he was watching someone else’s performance. It gave him the opportunity to disconnect, and right now, he needed that more than anything.

“I’m… home,” he said again, a bit more uncertain this time, and watched as Yuko’s eyes went wide when she saw him standing at the door.

“Yuri!”

He smiled sheepishly and let her hug him, exchanging the required pleasantries before telling her, “There’s something I want to show you.”

Yuko had always been his biggest supporter. They’d started drama and ballet classes together, and she’d always cheered for him and his dream to one day work with Victor. Her parents owned the drama school here, and he’d heard she’d taken over recently. Apparently that was true.

“Please watch me.”

She nodded, dutifully sitting at the edge of the room, and held her breath when Yuri turned his back towards her.

His shoulders tensed, fists clutched at his side, and he was shaking with emotion when he rasped, “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never done this before.” He whipped around. “You think I have all the answers?! I don’t! I don’t know what’s gonna happen now! My father and… my country… They’re all looking up to me, expecting me to be who they want me to be, but…”

He broke off, glancing to the side. “You know that’s not true. You know that’s not me. You are the…” Tears gathered in his eyes, and he swallowed past a lump in his throat as he cried, “You are the only one who knows who I really am! You are the only one I can just… be _myself_ with! I can’t lose you! I _won’t_ lose you, so please.” He took a step towards Yuko, blind to the expression on her face, the way her mouth was gaping and her eyes had gone wide.

“Please don’t go. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to make you stay, but… Please. Please, just… Don’t go. Stay with me. I will find a way, I promise, just… Please.”

He grabbed her hand, holding it tight. “Please stay with me.”

“I…”

Yuri smiled sadly, turning his hand to interlink their fingers. “Ha…” He exhaled loudly. “I don’t know… how to let go of this hand. This warmth…” He squeezed gently, raising her hand towards his cheek and letting the smooth skin rub over his own as he released a shaky breath. “Thank you… For everything. Even if this is the end, I’m… I’m glad I met you.”

He opened his eyes and smiled at her. “You made me a better person, Nina. I owe you… everything.”

He kissed the back of her hand and gently let it fall from his grasp, the tears spilling over his cheeks as he took a deep breath.

Then he laughed awkwardly.

“H—how was it?”

Yuko was sitting there, utterly speechless, and looked at him as if she’d been frozen on the bench.

“That bad, huh?”

“Awesome!”

“An authentic Nikiforov!”

“His fans will eat this up!”

Yuri blinked, startled by the sudden appearance of triplets in the doorframe.

“Uhm…”

Yuko shook herself and grabbed Yuri’s hands, holding them in a tight clutch that made them numb. “Yuri, that was amazing! I have chills.”

“R—really? Thanks…”

“Not bad,” her husband said, appearing behind their children. “I’d wager you could give Victor a run for his money.”

Yuri laughed awkwardly. “I really don’t think so. He’s…”

“The best,” Yuko parroted, almost bored.

“A genius,” Takeshi added.

“A man without equal!” one of the triplets said.

“The greatest star in the world!” cried another.

“Russia’s hero!” concluded the third.

Yuri blushed to the roots of his hair and hid his face. Had he really gushed about Victor that much? He just admired him as a fellow actor, that’s all! Really!

“A—anyway. I just wanted to show you.”

“That’s the monologue of his current play, isn’t it?” Yuko asked knowingly. “ _‘Stay Close to Me?’”_

“Y—yeah.”

The one he’d totally ruined with his presence. He’d only made it for one performance before dropping out and running back to Detroit.

“I thought you’d be depressed.”

Yuri smiled. “I was. But I grew bored of that. I don’t know what I want to do yet, but… I love acting. It’s not just because of Victor, it’s… hard to describe. The feeling I get whenever I’m on stage… I don’t know if I’m ready to give that up yet. So while I was thinking, I tried a few things, and this stuck with me. I saw him do it many times during rehearsals and opening night. I just… wanted to be like him, I guess.”

_Someone who’s not afraid to be up there. Someone who can let himself go and convey his feelings honestly to the world. Someone you’d be happy to watch on stage for hours without getting bored._

He couldn’t say that, but that’s what he was thinking. He didn’t have the guts to say it out loud, but… he still wanted it. He still wanted to be his equal. He still wanted to be on the same stage with Victor and be _seen_. By the audience, by the press, but most of all by _him_.

 

±

 

Yuri wasn’t sure what happened. One minute he was sleeping peacefully in his bed, the next his phone was getting blown up by notifications, and in the few seconds it took him to put on his glasses, seemingly his whole world changed.

“Wh—whaaaaat?!”

The triplets had uploaded his monologue on Youtube, and apparently someone had taken an interest in it and shared it further because the video was blowing up and it already had millions of views. Yuri only glimpsed at the comment section, still raw from his last experience with critics, but many of them actually identified him as the person who’d been in a play with Victor and dropped out after one show.

_Fantastic. Maybe I’ll just sleep forever._

But he didn’t and he couldn’t, and a short while later, Victor Nikiforov himself, the international acting sensation from Russia, was greeting him naked in his family’s onsen telling him he’ll be his coach from now on.

After that, Yuri’s life became a blur. Victor fell asleep in the inn’s bathrobes, exposing his chiselled chest to everyone, and then he insisted they sleep together, and then he greeted Yuri bright and early in the morning talking about practice.

Yuko, after recovering from her initial shock of seeing _Victor Nikiforov_ in her school, agreed to let them have a room of their own for as long as they needed, and Victor didn’t waste a second to lay his expectations on him.

“I will make you win a Tony with your next performance. You can pay me after.”

_Oh my god… It’s Victor Nikiforov._

Yuri didn’t hear anything the man was saying. All he heard was constant ringing in his ears and the blood rushing to his head whenever the Russian five-time Tony Award Winner came too close. Which happened every time Yuri spaced out, so he was stuck in an endless loop of not listening and making Victor frown.

“You don’t want my help?”

“I—“

Yuri felt like he hadn’t said anything to Victor so far. He’d just stammered and mumbled and screeched when Victor seductively touched his cheek, but so far they hadn’t had a single conversation he’d participated in.

That had to change.

“I do want your help,” Yuri said honestly, eyes trained on the ground. “But what are _you_ getting out of this? I mean… why are you here? With… me?”

Yuri knew that Victor’s play had come to an end a few days ago, and that rumour had it that the Russian hadn’t taken up any other jobs yet. What he didn’t know was why the hell the man would waste his time coming to Japan to meet _him_ of all people when he could be out there looking for his next project.

Victor tilted his head and hummed thoughtfully, making Yuri glance at him.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, a small smile on his lips. “I guess I was just drawn to you?”

Yuri’s mouth opened and closed. And opened and closed. And—

“Wh—why me?”

Victor smiled in earnest now. “You have a very special energy, Yuri. You have an innocence and aura not many people in this business have. It made me curious.” He waited a beat. “Is that not enough?”

He didn’t know. Yuri didn’t know if that was enough or not, but what could he say? ‘ _There’s no way you’re really interested in me’?_ No. Victor was known for his moods and erratic behaviour. It wasn’t out of character for him to board the next plane to a different country and uproot his entire life. That was in fact what had kickstarted his international career in the first place, so really, Yuri shouldn’t be surprised. He wasn’t special, he was just… Victor’s most current flight of fancy. It would pass. And when it did…

Yuri only hoped he would survive it.

Victor lounged on the couch in the studio and eyed him curiously. “You know, you are very talented, Yuri. Why do you mess up your performances?”

_Oh god._

“Because I am mentally weak.”

Grey eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

“There is nothing physically wrong with me and I can do the lines in practice but when it comes to the actual performance I panic and forget my lines or trip over my own tongue or become so scared no sound comes out.”

Victor blinked. “Oh.”

Yuri’s shoulders slumped.

“So you have stage fright, yes?”

“I guess you could call it that…” Yuri rubbed his neck. “I just… can’t stand the pressure. I don’t like people looking at me.”

Victor laughed. “That’s sort of the point of acting, you know.”

“I know! I know, I just… when I feel their expectations, I just…”

Victor’s eyes softened. “You have much to lose, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“But it seems to me that you already lost everything,” Victor’s words mercilessly cut through his heart. “So there’s no need to worry about it in the future.”

There was a bright smile on his face, but Yuri knew he’d just been horribly insulted. _Did he really just say that?!_

Wait. Did that mean that… Victor knew… who he was…?

“Er… Victor, you…”

“Hmm?”

“Do you… remember…?”

Victor’s smile shone so bright, Yuri almost got blinded by it when the Russian said, “That you ruined opening night because all the press could talk about was the guy who tripped over the stage and forgot half his lines and then left after just one performance?”

Yuri froze.

“Yes,” Victor said cheerily, holding up his phone so Yuri could take a good look at one of the headlines mocking his performance. “I remember.”

“S—sorry.”

Victor hummed and slid his phone back into his pocket. “You know, no one’s ever walked out on me before. That was a first for me.”

“I— I didn’t—“

“We had to find a replacement within a day and the director threatened to sue you over the damage you did to his play,” Victor continued.

Yuri’s soul drained out of his body. “S—sorry.”

“It was very amusing.”

Yuri hung his head. He knew his behaviour had been wrong, he just… He couldn’t stand being in the same room with Victor after that. Standing on the same stage. Facing the people who’d read about how horribly he’d messed up before. Letting his colleagues down again. Running had seemed like the best idea at the time, but that was only what he’d told himself to feel better. In reality, it had only made things worse.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t stay after that.”

“You always run from your problems, Yuri?”

He froze. Had Victor always been so blunt?

“You know, if you do that, you’ll never get better. No one will ever see your true potential if you don’t let them.”

“You’re right,” Yuri said, clenching his hands into fists. “I know you’re right, I just don’t know how to stop.”

A warm hand touched his, and Yuri startled to see Victor holding on to him. It was like a dream, being this close to his idol, feeling his skin, his warmth, hearing his voice so close to his ear, seeing those smiles meant only for him.

His heart was beating so fast, he was sure it would burst out of his ribcage, but this feeling… he wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in the world.

“That is why I’m here,” Victor said softly, seductively, as he pulled Yuri close, closer, until their foreheads were almost touching. “Let me help you, Yuri. Let me turn you into a star.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Victor had the most charming Russian accent when he told him that his delivery sucked and his body was too stiff. He wore the most beautiful smiles when he told Yuri his performance was terrible and not even worthy of a school play, and he gave him the gentlest of touches when he cheered him up and reassured him with a hand on his cheek.

Yuri was in heaven. He felt like he’d died sometime between Victor’s arrival and their first acting lesson, because surely none of this was real. Victor Nikiforov, here, in his old drama school, holding a script between long, lithe fingers as he observed him with cool glances over the pages.

“Stop.”

Yuri obeyed instantly.

“You’re too stiff, Yuri,” Victor said, sighing. He dropped the script he was holding and sized him up, those elegant digits touching against his face as he did. “What makes you so tense?”

“Er… haha…” He swallowed, awkwardly averting his gaze. _What?_ Viktor Nikiforov was sitting on a couch in the same room as him, breathing the same air, giving him a personalised lesson, and he was supposed to be what? Loose? Calm? He was anything but. In fact, he was the complete opposite. What did the man expect? Did Victor really not know what kind of effect he had on people? What he could do to them with a single glance? It was bad enough sitting in the audience of one of his plays, or watching him from behind a TV screen, but actually meeting the man face-to-face, in person, was just too much. How was _anyone_ supposed to keep their cool under these circumstances?

“You need to loosen up,” Victor said, and Yuri screeched when a warm arm wrapped around him out of nowhere, fingers massaging his muscles as the Russian actor whispered from behind him close to his ear. “What can I do to help you, Yuri? Hmm?”

“N—n—nothing!” Yuri darted away from the man, fighting a massive blush off his face as he gripped the wall.

“No? But you are not concentrating. You tend to flub your lines when you have something on your mind.”

“Ha.” Of course Victor had noticed that. Somehow the man just… saw right through him. Was Yuri that easy to read? Was he really so simple that a man he barely knew could lay him open like that without difficulty? If so, what kind of an actor did that make him?

“Will you not tell me?” Victor cocked his head innocently, making Yuri’s heart flutter and causing him to tense up even more, and the Russian sighed and drew a hand through his silver hair in annoyance. “Fine. Let us work on the basics then.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s go for a run, Yuri.”

At first Yuri had thought it was a joke, but he learned very quickly that Victor never joked. Sometimes he was smiling while he said something that sounded insane to anyone else, but he was still deathly serious. So they did go for a run. And then Victor forced him to join his usual workout routine and Yuri finally learned the secret to Victor’s enduring dream body, the object of many a woman’s (and man’s) obsession, and something Yuri himself had wondered about more times than he was willing to admit.

They got up at the crack of dawn every day to go for an hour long run. Then they did a set of Victor approved workouts. Then they had a very light breakfast, and then, when Yuri felt like he could just drop dead on his feet, Victor made him practice. At this point, Yuri was too tired to be tense, his muscles too sore to clam up, so while his movements were perhaps a bit stilted and slow, they flowed more naturally, transitioned better, and after a few weeks, Yuri realised that not thinking about his body helped him focus on his lines without realising.

“Victor, that’s… amazing.”

“Hmm?”

Victor was draped over the couch, lazily listening to Yuri as he performed another monologue, and he only very occasionally looked up from his notes. Yuri wondered how Victor could possibly tell if he’d gotten better or not if he didn’t look, but his coach always had comments about his performance that told him he’d been paying attention, and Yuri had caught a glimpse of the notes he’d made while he’d been acting a couple of times, so he knew Victor was aware of everything he was doing. He’d just never know how.

“Your training regimen… It works! I don’t feel nervous anymore. I mean—not as much as I used to anyway. It’s incredible!”

The Russian beamed at him, lowering the pages in his hand, and said, “That’s because now that you’re not a fat little piggy anymore, you gained more confidence.”

Yuri’s jaw hit the floor. Somehow Victor’s bluntness still managed to shock him despite everything.

“That… may be so…”

“It’s important to take care of your body,” Victor continued, “if you want to make it as an actor, Yuri. You have good stamina, better than me, but you do not have control over all of your muscles. Acting isn’t just your face and your voice, you know. If you can control all of yourself, more doors will be open to you.”

“Is that how you got so popular?” Yuri asked, teasing him a little, and Victor’s smile only grew brighter.

“No, that’s because I’m very handsome.”

Yuri buried his face in his hands and didn’t look at Victor for an hour while he practiced his lines.

He knew Victor was very handsome. The whole _world_ knew Victor was very handsome. Yuri also knew that as handsome as Victor was, he himself was not. He tended to gain weight easily, and he had terrible eyesight, and unlike Victor, who looked like a Russian supermodel who’d just jumped straight out of a fashion magazine, he was nothing but a completely ordinary Japanese man in his early twenties. One of a thousand anyone would encounter on the street in his country. He wasn’t special. He never would be.

One day, he was brave enough to confess that much to Victor, and the man looked at him for a moment, contemplated, and then declared, “You’ll never be a supermodel, Yuri, but that’s not what you’re trying to do, is it? Being an actor isn’t about being pretty. It’s about being interesting, and most people who are pretty are boring. Are you boring, Yuri?”

Yuri violently shook his head, not because he thought so, but because the look in Victor’s eyes said anything else would be met with a punishment.

“Good. So why are you comparing yourself to the wrong standards? I watched you act. I saw your plays.”

“H—how?”

“Your sister showed me the recordings,” Victor waved off. “You have something none of those supermodels have, Yuri. You have an aura that no one can look away from. It makes me wonder what you’ll do next. I can’t take my eyes off you.” Victor’s face got dangerously close to his, and Yuri felt a brush of silver hair on his forehead when Victor said, “It makes me want more, and you’re going to give it to me. To me and the whole world.”

Yuri didn’t quite know what to say after that, so he excused himself and left the onsen to stew a little in his room.

Victor thought he was interesting. Victor wanted to see more of what he could do with his acting.

 _Victor thought he was interesting._ More interesting than a supermodel. More interesting than the other actors he’d worked with. Victor had chosen him. Why, Yuri still didn’t know, but he had, and after Victor had been living with him for a month without showing any signs of wanting to go back, Yuri thought maybe it was okay to believe that he was serious. Maybe it was okay to let himself open up.

That was when Yuri’s biggest nightmare entered the scene.

 

±

 

“Oi. Piggy. Where’s Victor?”

Yuri Plisetsky was blocking the entrance to the inn, murder in his eyes, and Yuri had never wanted to vanish into thin air as much as he did in that moment.

“Y—Yuri.”

“So you remember me, huh?” The kid sneered. “Whatever. Where’s the old man?”

Victor had gone for a walk with his dog, and whenever he did that, it could be ages until he returned because he tended to get caught up exploring the city and chatting with locals when he was left to his own devices. Yuri had no intention of taking the risk of being alone with the other Yuri for that long.

“I’ll let him know you’re here.” He didn’t wait for a response, dashing madly for the exit, and pulled out his phone as soon as he was clear of the Russian punk. “Victor,” he said urgently when the man cheerily picked up. “You need to come back. Now.”

“Hmm? Why? Did something happen?”

Yuri glanced over his shoulder, feeling a dangerous presence there, and saw the Russian actor stare daggers at him.

“You have a visitor.”

“A visitor?”

Of course Victor’s fans had gotten wind of the fact that he’d moved to Japan, mainly because Victor had taken absolutely not care or precautions trying to keep anyone from finding out, so it wasn’t unusual for people to show up looking for the actor, but this was a bit different from the normal crazed fans they had to deal with.

“It’s Yuri Plisetsky.”

“Yuri?” Victor sounded surprised. “What’s he doing here?”

“He didn’t say. Come and ask him.” Yuri hesitated. “Please?”

Victor laughed, deep and pleasant, and it made Yuri’s heart sing in his chest. “Are you scared of him, Yuri?”

“No, it’s just…” _He caught me crying in a bathroom and you know I’m terrified of failure and looking like an idiot in front of people and he triggered my biggest nightmares while also appearing like he wanted nothing more than to make me disappear forever and frankly I’m not confident he won’t still try._ He couldn’t say that. “He doesn’t want to talk to me, he wants to see _you._ Are you coming?”

“Sure sure. I’m on my way. Play nice now!” And with that, Victor hung up, leaving Yuri to fend for himself.

Slinking back inside like he was on his way to his execution, Yuri faced Yuri in an intense stare-off before the Russian declared, “Just so you know, _loser_ , I’ll be taking Victor home with me.”

Yuri’s heart turned to ice.

_Take Victor home? Now?_

“I can’t believe he wasted a month on an idiot like you. What was he thinking? Do you have any idea what this is doing to his career?” The kid’s face turned into an ugly sneer as he stepped into his personal space, taunting, “Or maybe you don’t care, huh? You trying to ruin him, little piggy? Start a scandal? Even you could get a bit of fame with that.”

Yuri blinked. What was he talking about? What scandal?

When he looked into the Russian’s eyes, really _looked_ for the first time, Yuri was overcome with a sense of tranquility he hadn’t felt in years, and he realised two important things all at once. One: Victor’s training had paid off. He was a lot more settled now, a lot harder to rattle, and things like that just pearled off him now when they’d have left him crying before Victor had entered his life. And two: the Russian teen star was nothing but a troublesome little kitten scratching at anyone who came too close. It was almost cute, now that he realised.

With these new revelations in mind, Yuri’s body relaxed and he smiled kindly when he said, “Victor will be back soon. Why don’t you relax in the bath until then?”

“I can’t bathe in public,” the kitten hissed back, and Yuri didn’t hear a no in there. _Huh._ Had he gotten better at reading people? Or was the teenager just that obvious?

“Alright. Want some food while you wait?”

“I won’t eat anything _you_ made.”

That wasn’t a no either, and Yuri hid an amused smile as he brushed past the Russian kid and told his parents they had another visitor.

“What do you mean you’re staying?!” Yuri’s hand connected with the table, making Victor’s dog wince while the owner only blinked slowly and leaned back on his hands, carelessly exposing more of his chest as his bathrobe opened up with the movement.

“I told you, I’m not coming back,” he explained patiently, patting Makkachin’s head. “I’m taking a break from acting. Do you not read the news?”

“Don’t fuck with me, geezer!” The Russian kid crushed a can of coke in his hand, and for one terrifying moment, Yuri actually thought he was going to hurl it at Victor’s head, but the man merely smiled and said, “That wasn’t my intention. Based on your reaction I’d say I’ve forgotten a promise I made, yes?”

“You—!!” What followed was a series of expletives that Yuri couldn’t understand because most of it was in very heated Russian, but Victor remained unfazed, merely laughed at the outburst and waved his hands.

“Sorry sorry, my bad! You know I have a terrible memory.”

“I’m all too aware.”

Victor thoughtfully tapped his chin. “What can I do? I promised to help you both. Ah, this is bad.” He sighed, clearly not the least bit bothered by it. “This makes me very tired. Maybe I should just sleep?”

The Russian Yuri aimed to kick him, but his colleague evaded with ease and mused, “Maybe I teach you both?”

So far, Yuri had remained silent, but that made him perk up. Teach them both? How? Would that mean sharing Victor’s time with someone else? An end to their tranquil one-on-one’s? No longer being able to feel Victor’s attention focused on him, and him alone? No longer being… special?

Yuri felt tears gathering in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall where anyone could see him. Not trusting his voice at the moment, he stood, walked briskly to the door, and only stopped to mumble, “I’ll go practice my lines,” before dashing up to his room and locking himself inside.

This could only have one of two outcomes, Yuri knew. Either Victor realised what a massive mistake he’d made coming here and returned to the acting world with the other, better Yuri, or he’d stay here and teach them both, reminding him that he was nothing special after all and that any other actor could crush him in a heartbeat.

Yuri knew he didn’t stand a chance against the other Yuri. When it came down to it, that prickly teenager was miles ahead in the game, and he had no idea how to catch up. Even with Victor’s help it would be hard, but if his coach decided to teach the other Russian as well, it was downright impossible.

As Yuri tried to come to terms with the seismic shift his world had just suffered, he curled himself up into a ball on his bed, surrounded by posters and newspaper cutouts of Victor Nikiforov smiling down at him from every angle, and ignored the real thing persistently knocking at his door while he asked him again to sleep together.

_What was it Victor said? Maybe I should just sleep._

 

±

 

Yuri wasn’t there when his sister gave the Russian punk his new nickname, but it made him smile whenever the kid got mad at being called Yurio, so the name obviously stuck. What followed were a few odd days in which none of them quite new what to do, so both Yuris merely stuck to practicing delivery, as far apart from each other as they could, while Victor stewed on his sofa and didn’t pay much attention to either one of them.

On the fifth day, he announced, “I will coach you both,” and the tone in his voice was final. Yuri knew if he argued, Victor would leave with the other Russian and never come back, so he bit his tongue and accepted his fate. The other Yuri did the same.

“You’re a joke,” was all he spit out before returning to his practice, leaving Yuri to face Victor alone.

What could he possibly say to the man now? _Don’t leave me for someone else? Don’t look at anyone but me? Please, just stay here with me and never get back to acting at all?_

All of these were things he wanted, and none of these were things he could ask for, so he settled on relaxing his shoulders and taking Victor’s script out of his hand to peruse the page.

“Where do we start?”

Yurio joined their daily training, and it quickly became obvious that the drama school Victor had gone to in Russia was tough. Both of them were used to pushing their bodies to their utter limits, both of them kept going further without any complaint, and Yuri could see their hard-earned skill in every movement of their faces, every little change in expression, and it made him gape in awe whenever either one of them recited a monologue.

They were from two completely different worlds. Yuri realised that now more than ever.

“What are you doing, Mikhail?” Victor grabbed Yurio’s wrist, holding him firmly in place. “You can’t leave the palace.”

Yurio shrugged out of his grasp, averting his gaze. “I know.”

“You’re sneaking off again.”

“And why shouldn’t I? What’s it to you?” He looked up at the other Russian in challenge. “It’s not like you’re in any position to talk, _brother_.”

“Mikhail…”

“Was it that girl again? _Nina?_ ”

Victor’s expression shifted subtly, and Yuri could see how his body tensed with it. It was breathtaking. The minuscule change in his stance, the slightest alteration of his features…

“Are you going to tell anyone?”

Yurio lifted an eyebrow, relaxed against the wall. “What will you give me if I don’t?”

“I’m asking you as your brother.”

The young man’s lips pulled into a cold smile, he chuckled sweetly, and then he pushed off the wall to approach Victor. Grabbing his shirt to drag him down to his level, he spit hatefully, “ _I have no need for brothers_ ,” and shoved him away. Then he left Victor standing there while he made his exit, but Yuri didn’t see him leave.

All he saw was Victor, frozen in place, and a single tear running down his cheek as he stared after his ‘brother.’

Yuri had seen this scene a hundred times. During every rehearsal before the big opening night, they’d refined it more and more, eventually arriving at a version that made Yuri’s heart quite literally break every time he saw Victor, but this one was different. This one was… rawer. More honest. He could _feel_ the hatred radiating off Yurio, the heavy betrayal and disappointment in the air between them, Victor’s heart yearning for one thing and desperately clinging to the other.

Realising that his own eyes had grown moist, Yuri quickly wiped over his face and met his coach with an encouraging smile when he turned to him.

“What do you think?”

_I think you should never have taken time off to come here._

“You changed it.”

Victor shook his head to loosen his hair and said, “A little. I always let the role evolve with time. After a hundred performances doing the same thing over and over again gets very boring.”

Yuri had never been in a play that ran for long enough for him to get bored, but he saw no need to mention that. Instead, he moved a little to make space for Victor on the couch and tried to ignore the sudden heat radiating close to him when the man sat down.

“I would have liked to see it.”

“Yes, but instead, you ran away.” Victor smiled at him. “That’s what you get for giving up, Yuri. Do you realise now?”

Yuri hung his head and mumbled, “Yes.”

“Good.” His coach slung an arm around his shoulders, tugging him close. “So this time, no running away if you make a mistake, yes?”

“Yes. I promise. I won’t run anymore.” And he meant it. Seeing Victor, seeing Yurio… How could he run when he was so close to people like that? He should be intimidated, and he was, but at the same time he couldn’t help but feel inspired. Their presence gave him the push he needed, made him want and hope for things he hadn’t dared to dream about before, but having Victor here, holding him tight, he thought maybe it wasn’t that crazy after all. Maybe he just stood a chance.

“Are you two idiots done? Quit wasting my time.”

Yuri sheepishly looked up at the Russian kid and removed Victor’s arm from around him as he said, “Sorry. My turn?”

“Hopeless.” Yurio sighed but got into position, a sneer unlike his own on his face when Yuri faced him. He didn’t waste any time.

“ _Heh._ What do we have here?” He walked a slow circle around him, not unlike an interested cat ready to pounce, and kicked him in the back of the knee, making Yuri fall to the floor in shock. “I smell fresh meat.” He stopped, bent down to Yuri’s level, and growled dangerously, “I’m feeling veeeeery hungry.”

“P—please. Take—take anything, please. Just don’t—“

Yurio grabbed his hair, yanking his head back so he was forced to look into his eyes. “Don’t _what_ , shithead? Speak up. I can’t hear you.”

Yuri felt a cold shiver run down his spine, and he knew that wasn’t acted. Over the weeks, he’d come to know Yurio well enough to realise that the kid had a few anger management issues but was by and large harmless. Mostly he just shied away from affection or letting anyone close enough to get to know the real him, but apart from that, he was actually not a bad guy. They’d even bonded together over shared baths in the onsen, and he’d managed to make the Russian youth laugh more than one time, and vice versa.

Yuri was no longer scared of the teenager, but right now, he genuinely believed he could kill him if he made one wrong move, and it made his blood sing in his veins.

“Please don’t hurt me! I’ll give you anything! My m— My money, here,” Yuri fumbled with the wallet in his pocket, dropping it since his hands shook too much to hold on when it slipped free of his clothes, “take it! Take everything!”

“Everything?” Yurio smiled, a deranged, cruel smile that held Yuri in place, and he could feel hot air on his face when the Russian came even closer. “Even your life?”

Yuri was frozen, unable to move or say anything, and after a second of shock, hot tears filled his eyes and spilled onto his cheeks as he found himself pleading, “Please, no, not that! P—please not that! Please!”

“What.” Yurio shoved him away, disgusted, and stepped on his wallet. “What the fuck have you got to live for anyway, huh?”

“I—I—“ Yuri tried to swallow the tears, but they kept coming, and he buried both his hands in his hair as Yurio kicked the wallet back to him and turned to leave.

“Keep it. I don’t need your snot on me anyway.”

That was definitely a personal dig, Yuri thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He calmed his breathing and dried his tears, blindly accepting the tissue appearing to his right to clean his nose, and then he felt Victor’s arms around him.

“ _Sugoi!_ That was wonderful, Yuri! You really let yourself go!”

“Thanks, I guess…”

He tilted his head to look at Victor, who was all dazzling smiles, and decided that it had been a compliment.

“It makes me so happy to see you improve.”

Honestly, Yuri thought, if Victor was always going to be like that when he did well, he’d be the best actor in the world in _no_ time. So naturally Victor had to go and ruin it by following up with, “Even though your delivery was still very stilted and could use a lot of work, your body responded well to the cues Yurio gave you, and I could really feel you let go halfway through. Next time focus on your voice but don’t forget to let your body react to—“

Yuri stopped listening and focused on the sound of _Victor’s_ voice instead, the distinct Russian accent he’d come to love, the deep tones that could easily lull him to sleep, and, of course, the warmth of two strong arms around him, holding him close.

 

 


End file.
